


Stroll

by ang_gray_smol



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Gossip, Introspection, alternate spanish era philippines i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 06:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang_gray_smol/pseuds/ang_gray_smol
Summary: Whenever she leaves the talipapa, whispers start to arise, because no one in this town can live without ever shutting their mouths.A quiet town entertains themselves in the aftermath of a daily, eerie presence.





	Stroll

**Author's Note:**

> chismis is a rather powerful weapon wielded carelessly, don't you think?

That’s when it started.

Every morning, when the sun would near its highest peak, she would stroll into the talipapa, quiet as the wind but dangerous like a storm. With a woven basket hanging from her arms, she’d eye the stalls one by one, looking for certain products to buy, though I’m not entirely sure how she can see through that thick veil of hers. On some days, she buys meat and fish, on others she buys vegetables, and on others still she buys a bit of both.

On Mondays she approaches our stall last, and after scanning the different cloths my aunt has to offer her, she chooses a thick roll, pays rather heavily for it, and leaves the talipapa, the eyes of many still on the finely sewn brocade of her skirt. The next week, she’d stroll into town, wearing a completely different gown and veil, made from the cloth she bought from us last week.

Whenever she leaves the talipapa, whispers start to arise, because no one in this town can live without ever shutting their mouths.

“I heard the lady’s face has been horribly disfigured,” one said, as I passed by the meat stalls to scout for good chicken pieces so Auntie could cook tinola for dinner.

“That would explain the veil, yes,” replied their companion, an old woman from what I can hear. “But she doesn’t have to wear such a dress…”

(Auntie told me that it was rude to stare at people having a conversation among themselves. But that never stopped me from eavesdropping.)

The old woman has a point. Then again, it’s probably for fashion sense.

But in this heat?

“The dress hides her real form,” a warbling man said, to a curious group of kids. “The lady who comes here every morning is actually a diwata!”

“Impossible,” retorted one of the older kids.

“Oh, you may never know, hijo,” the warbler said, and in the corner of my eye I could see him raise a finger. “The diwata are notorious for blending in among humans. I actually received word from a visiting acquaintance of mine that a school in the Imperial City actually has diwata for students.”

The kids started to holler in awe, as well as discuss their own theories about the veiled lady.

All right then, if she was a diwata, then wouldn’t she have tried to at least be a bit more…inconspicuous? She comes here every morning wearing a long-sleeved, full-length gown with heavy brocade, and a thick abaca veil that not only hides her face but dangles all the way down to her waist too. That would be quite over-the-top for a diwata trying to go undercover.

“I don’t think she’s a diwata,” the older kid from earlier said. I rolled my eyes as I paid for the chicken. “She’s probably engkanto.”

“Aren’t they kind of similar though?”

“Yeah but my grandpa said that engkanto have certain facial features that distinguish them from humans. That’s why she wears a veil!”

The other kids “ooh-ed” at the older kid, who seemed to be basking in the praise they’re getting.

“No, no! She’s a ghost! She’s haunting us all!” another kid exclaimed, but no one seemed to hear them.

I rolled my eyes even harder, as I walked back to our stall.

“She’s probably a babaylan, or even a mangkukulam,” a gossipy lady said, to her equally gossipy companion. “She’s hiding her face because the guardia civil could arrest her and execute her.”

“Guardia civil? Where?”

“In the Imperial City, of course!”

The gossipy companion sighed in an exaggerated manner. “Do you even know how far we are from the Imperial City? Travel takes two days at most, one day if your horse is incredibly speedy.”

“Yeah okay, whatever.” The gossipy lady waved a flippant hand. “Someone here could rat her out though, and word could reach Manila—I’m sure you’re aware that Manila girls are more gossipy than anyone else. _Then_ the guardia civil will storm the town, yeah?”

“Uy, that—that actually sounds plausible.”

I stopped by a jewelry stall, and observed the rings on display. I still had a few coins to spare.

“I heard from someone that the veiled girl is the parish priest’s mistress,” a sneering teenager said.

“Disgraceful. Where did you even hear such a thing?” scolded a pious old woman, probably the teen’s mother. “The parish priest would never do such a thing. Plus, did you even see how young the girl is? It would be absolutely scandalous.”

“All right then,” the teenager said, shrugging their shoulders, “she’s the parish priest’s…illegitimate daughter?”

“You,” the mother began, tightly pinching her child’s ear. “Say those blasphemous things one more time, child, or I will not grant you any more indulgences.”

The teenager winced, but said nothing more.

Whatever the rumour was, the veiled girl still came. Every week, she would wear a new gown. Every morning, she would go around and buy things, then leave just as quietly.

The rumours persisted, but Auntie told me not to pay them any mind. _Let people get creative_ , she said. One day the truth will come back to bite them in their asses.

After another day of the veiled lady going through the talipapa, the neighboring vendor suddenly commented off-handedly, “Don’t you think she’s dressed like a queen? With the gown, and that veil, heck, even that small diadem of hers, she’s like the Holy Virgin came to save us.”

A queen.

Huh.

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello im back!!!
> 
> so i decided to start posting original stuff on my ao3! i hope it doesnt deter yall or anything, but i dont think fictionpress.com suits me anymore when it comes to original works
> 
> i wont be crossposting my old stuff from fictionpress (bc theyre old and cringey and we leave those stuff there), but it's still open for those who still lurk around (im sansinukob if yall curious)
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> [inspired by a story of a friend of mine (tenk u nikki u da lodi)]


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